Professor Longbottom, the Gryffindor
by Niamh the Vargie
Summary: Six years later, Neville is back teaching at Hogwarts! Detirmened to get by without relying on his heroic past, ex-teachers, or famous friends, can Neville accept help from a certin 7th year who knows first hand what kind of man her new professor is?
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

*deep breath* First story! *squels*

Ok, now that that is done. This is a story about Neville's first year of teaching. Sure he fought in the final Battle, and he became a brave badass during his seventh year. But he's still the Neville Longbottom we all know and wish we could hug sometimes. So things don't go quite according to plan...

And for the technical stuff; This is going to be a multi-chapter peice, but not super long, probablly somewhere in the 5-10 chapter range. I'm so inspired by this little plot I've come up with that I _dream _about it, so there should be fairly fast updates. My goal is to have this done by mid-January.

Everything should be pretty self explanitory, but please mention anything weird in reviews and/or PMs! I'm also writing this with the 7th book next to me, which has sticky notes on all of Neville's lines. So, please point anything I get wrong out to me; I won't be at all insulted! I'm actually a tad bit obsessed with keeping things canon. Please Review in general actually, I already said this is my first published fic, so give me some feedback!

This is a really long author's note, this is kind of my intro for the whole story. All the others after this will be much shorter I'm sure. I hope you enjoy this little dose of Neville!

And lastly: I am not our most talented and wonderful Jo, and if Neville was mine I would be doing _other _things with him, not writing him into fanfictions when I should be doing school work.

Enjoy!

...

Neville had just turned 23 when he came back to teach at Hogwarts. He was one of the youngest teachers in the history.

Before he started, Neville was sure that he would catch _some _slack for this. Nearly all of his teacher were still there; there was bound to be a slip up at the least. He was sure Headmistress McGonagall would accidentally deduct house points from him, or Professor Flitwick would duck when he pulled out his wand, still frightened from some of the incidents from his first year.

Coming back to the school six years later was almost as scary as it had been the first time. This time however, wasn't because of the fear of the unknown. This was the fear of going back to things he was all too acutely aware of. He knew the battle he'd fought in and the torture of his seventh year would stay with him.

He considered very briefly taking the Hogwarts Express back, as his favorite DADA teacher had. But he dismissed the idea very quickly. Since Luna had been dragged off the train over the Christmas holiday of '96-'97, he hadn't liked trains. He floo'd back to his Gran's when everything at Hogwarts had returned to some sort of odd normalcy, and avoided muggle trains and the tube as he manuvered about the country.

He decided to apperate. True to what everyone had expected of him, Neville wasn't especially good at apperation. He mostly used other forms of transportation, muggle and magic. But not trains…..

Neville shock his head, knowing he had to focus on his task at hand. Closing his eyes and spinning, he thought of the huge entrance to the castle and the doors to the Great Hall.

...

The subtle differences in the entrance startled him far more then he ever expected them to, or if he was being completely honest with himself, he thought they should.

Things like the fact that there were no more gargoyles at the entrance. Or that the windows high up in the doors were different. He couldn't put his finger on why, but he could tell that they were. He knew that they had been broken during the Battle of Hogwarts, the one furthest on the right by a charm that had ricocheted off one of his own shield charms. But he hadn't realized that the abuse had changed the shape of the windows, or that the new glass would look so different….

Neville shock his head, focusing on the task at hand for the second time that night. And that task at hand was walking through those doors and taking his place at the head table. He was a professor now, he couldn't keep getting lost in memories of his own school days, or worse, the war that had happened six years ago.

Gathering his thoughts, Neville pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and walked in.

...

Headmistress McGonagall looked down from the head's table with a smile on her face. A smile that she directed to each of the four house tables in turn. House tables that Neville realized, to his growing horror were already full of students. All of whom were looking at him.

A thousand eyes turned to look at him. Some of them looked out at him kindly, some with some curiosity, and a small amount, mostly those at the far table under the green banner, looked at him with distain. One girl had a look of special admiration on her face. A few turned to whisper with their friends about the new Herblogy professor. But most of the students were looking at him with something else in their eyes. Expectation. Not yet judgment, but it's first cousin. They were expecting things from him.

Neville gulped. Then, with a deep breath to summon his Gryffindor courage, he walked in.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE!

The instructions for uploading chapters aren't overly clear...just saying...I'm also really mad because my mother sat down and double edited this with me so it would be PERFECT, then it didn't save. So, just for now forgive the errors...

Before I start, a million bagillion kazillion thanks to openhangslikes, who wrote me a wonderful review. As they was my very first reviewer EVER, you know hold a very special place in my heart 3

Quick clarification; Normally it is not possible to just apperate into Hogwarts. However, it is possible to lift that ban, like they do to teach the sixth years. So, Neville has informed McGonagall that he wants to apperate in and she makes it possible. I did think that through, and now I wish I'd found a way to write that into the first chapter, but hey, now you know!

This chapter is much longer than the fist one, and I think that most chapter are going to be more like the length of this one than the first one.

I hope you all enjoy, thanks everyone for reading and those who put my on story alert I hope you like.

Everything from the first author's note still applies.

Also, I know that beggers can't be choosers, but I would love some feedback about the dialogue. I know that I hear Maggie Smith's voice in my head whenever I write lines for McGonagall but that doesn't mean I totally have the charactor right...Thanks in advance!

...

Neville walked slowly between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables toward the head's table. He felt as though every eye in the house was following him. In reality this wasn't that far from true. Though his own actions during the dark times didn't inspire the same hero-worship the "Golden Trio's" did, he had acquired his own fame, more than he even really knew about.

Parents often told their children about him, he was told. He never asked for more details, so he didn't know what the stories were. He knew he was the moral though. Parents wanted to teach their children a lesson, and they held him up as some sort of standard. Of what, he had honestly no idea. He didn't feel exemplary at anything. The knowledge that people thought of him like that was hard to process, so he pushed it to the back of his head, and tried his hardest not to think about.

That was proving rather hard to do right now, Neville thought as he continued his death march to the head table. It felt farther away now then it ever had when he was at school. He considered running the distance, but that just made him think of Professor Quirrell and the troll in his first year. So he continued his pace, followed by whispers.

"He fought in here you know…."

"Reinstated the DA…."

"…..saved my sister once…."

"Stood up to Death Eaters!"

"and HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED!"

"Shared a dorm with Harry Potter"

"Luna Lovegood…. And Ginny Weasely…."

"We had detention together once…."

Neville paused for a moment, struck by the last thing he had heard. Detention together? He started walking again. That comment couldn't have been directed at him. The seventeen year olds must have used his entrance as a cover to talk about some quidditch captain or….

His eyes widened as a realization struck him. A realization, the condescending part of his brains said, that should have struck him long ago. Six years ago. His seventh year had been six years ago. That meant the small eleven year olds who he'd tried so hard to protect were still Hogwarts students, albeit much larger ones, as they were all in their seventh year now.

This concept shook him to his core. The idea that he had been in school with some of the tallest kids in the school made him feel old, but at the same time, hopelessly young. Too young to hope to teach them.

Neville gave his head a little shake. He was two thirds of the way to the heads table now and he kept walking. This was one of those things that he couldn't think about now. Later, before he went to sleep or while he was sipping morning tea, he could try to process some of his racing thoughts. But not now.

His seventh year had taught him how to compartmentalize. By the time they took Luna at Christmas, he could do it almost too well. He knew he needed to focus on the DA and stopping the spread of evil though the school and not on himself or his own insecurities. So he would focus on the DA and whatever mission it was pushing, forgetting sometimes to eat or sleep. It got to the point that he would pass out, late at night over his notes. Luna had always been the one who woke him up, and the one who brought him food before he had the chance to fall. When she was taken, he had to learn to merge himself back together.

Yet that newfound control; the thing that allowed him to bury things in his mind, he kept long past the war had ended. It was one of things that war had changed within him that he actually liked. It kept him from being paralyzed by his lack of confidence.

Neville looked up at the head table. Professor- no, Headmistress- McGonagall was smiling warmly at him. He wasn't used to her looking so kind; he wasn't very good at transfigurations, and the only two times he'd seen her out of school were at Dumbledore's funeral and in the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts. Each of those times, she had rather a hard, brisk look on her face. Now however, she looked genuinely happy to see him.

That frightened him a little.

"May I have your attention please! Students, this is our new Herbology Professor, Neville Longbottom."

An undercurrent of whispers started, and this time, Neville was slightly amused to see, several of the teacher were also muttering amongst themselves. McGonagall cleared her throat and a hush fell.

"As I was saying, Professor Longbottom has joined our staff after extensive study; he has spent two of the six years since his own Hogwarts graduation traveling to study some more exotic plants, and another year he spent working in the ministry to help straighten up some of the sources and classifications of plants in the Department of Plants and Herbology of Great Britian, a department that had been sorely neglected during the First war, and continued suffering during the Second."

At this point in her introduction, Minerva McGonagall paused to survey the school she now oversaw. She was pleased to see that almost every student had their eyes respectfully on her, and the few that didn't were focused on Neville. She noted in particular one seventeen year old, who was staring at Neville as though she had seen a ghost. For a moment, Minerva narrowed her eyes, but instantly remembered who the girl was. She smiled fondly at her former student and placed a loving hand on his shoulder.

Neville, for his part, was sincerely hoping that this was all that his former head of house was going to say about ANY former wars, be they be the ones he was personally involved in or one of the numerous Goblin Rebellions that Professor Binns had made sound as interesting as the ingredients of pumpkin juice.

It appeared he was going to get his wish, as the Headmistress gave him a small pat on the shoulder and continued talking in a more affectionate voice.

"While Mr. Longbottom was here, I was proud to be his head of house. I know I speak for all of my colleges as well as myself when I say how truly honored I am that he has chosen to come back to share his knowledge with you."

Neville was touched by this speech and turned to share a smile with the matronly women who used to scare him, and the rest of the adults behind the table. He was quickly called back to reality when McGonagall's voice turned a bit more harsh.

"I'm confident that almost all of you have heard stories of The Second War and the Final Battle. Or, more specifically, the role that Professor Longbottom played in it. Make no mistake, he played a crutial role in the defeat of You-Know-Who. Without him, the wizarding world as we know it would not be the same."

Neville knew his face probably looked uncomfortably stunned.

"But this is not what he is here to teach us," the headmistress continued briskly, "And I would appreciate it greatly if you would all take that to heart. He is here to teach about plants, not to tell stories of battle. I would thank you all to remember this as you go about your lessons with him."

Neville had hoped, hoped against hope really, that when he started his new job no one would bring up the war. But he reasoned with himself, this vague mention was the best he was going to get.

Caught up in his thoughts as he was, Neville had stopped really listening to his welcome speech. He jumped when the headmistress gave a little cough. He looked over to find her looking expectantly at him. He gulped.

"I'm sorry professor, um headmistress. Ah I didn't catch the last thing you said. Was it…?"

Neville could have hit himself, he sounded so much like a blubbering first year again. He felt like it to, as Professor McGonagall's face now had a slightly annoyed look that reminded him so much of him trying to transfigure things.

"I said, perhaps you would like to say a few words to the older students before you take a seat?" she hissed. Neville could tell that she was trying to be quiet, as was he, but some of the students in front of them had amused grins on there faces, and Neville felt his heart sinking.

"Oh, ah well….no thank you?" Neville wasn't even sure why he was being offered a speech. New teachers never gave speeches when he was at school, except for Umbridge, and he thought of her less like a teacher and more the devil. Professor McGonagall looked at him for a moment.

"Say something." This time it wasn't politely phrased as a question.

"Like what? I don't have any idea what to say…." Neville knew his voice bordered on winning at this point, but he didn't honestly care as long as he didn't have to speak to the students in the hall, many more of whom were regarding him with amusement.

"Mr. Longbottom, you look out and tell those children that you are happy to be here and look forward to the year."

"Yes Professor." said Neville rather meekly. He turned to the crowd. "Um, well Hello everyone I'm Neville. I MEAN Longbottom. I MEAN Professor Longbotton…..and um, I'm happy to be here again and I look forward to teaching you this year…"

He drifted off uncertainly. He saw students exchanging looks of amusement. He imagined them thinking, _this is what they found us for a teacher? _But more disturbing to him, he still saw others looking at him as though they expected to suddenly whip the Sword of Gryffindor out and utter a battle cry. _Which, _he supposed ruefully, _he had done once before….._

Neville knew there was one more thing he had to tell these students before he sat.

"Listen, um….I guess that maybe some of you have heard of me, and maybe some of the stuff that I did during…well yeah. But um, I just want to say that I'm definatly not special. And I'm definatly not a hero. And I don't want you to think of me as one…..because I'm not. And um, I'm just here to teach you herbology. Yeah, ah. That's all."

That had to be the worst ending to any speech ever. Hesitantly, still sharing meaningful looks with each other, the students began to applauded.

"Yes, well, you had better come sit down now." Headmistress McGonagall's voice broke into his thoughts. She up out a hand to pull him slightly higher on the raised platform. "There is you seat." She gestured.

The seat was two to the left from him, but on the other side of the table. Neville looked down the row to see how far the table went before he'd be able to get around to the other side. The distance was at least that of the walk up to the head table.

Neville had learned another thing in the war that he was proud of. He had that skill to see the most effective means to an end. This he had learned in a reasonably unpleasant way; they had to know how far they could push the Carrows before someone got seriously hurt. They also had to get inside their heads, to try and understand what a punishment would be before it was dished out. Neville had, though he'd never admitted it, a sneaking suspicion that the Cruciatus Curse would be a punishment under the Snape regime. It was smart tactics, he knew, sick but clever. The curse caused unbearable pain, which would certainly discourage wrong doing, and it was illegal, which was honestly almost as scary. It showed just how far they'd fallen.

Now, however, Neville could put this skill to better use.

The most effective way to get to his seat was not to walk around the table the long way.

So, Neville got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the Head Table.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry for my lack of updates! This has been sitting on my computer for two weeks, in need of nothing more than a final edit. I was hit by an awful mix of illness and school, that is all I can offer you!

Although, I must say since there has been ONLY ONE REVIEW, I don't know that many of you care... Subtle hint, guys I'd really like to hear from you! Even if its flames.

But anyways, I am pretty proud of how this is going, and as a general update, this story so far has been a minute by minute sort of tale, but the next chapter is going to cover more of Neville's live.

...

When we last saw our hero; _So, Neville got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the Head Table. _

The gasps from the crowd quickly told him that he had done something wrong. But he was currently under the table so there wasn't a whole lot that could be done about it right then.

Neville pulled himself up into his chair without a problem. He had lost his baby weight during his time in the Room of Requirements, and constantly running from teachers and carrying injured students out of detention had built him into a fitter figure. This was another change that he liked about himself after the war.

As he sat up, he realized that everyone was looking at him in shock. Most of the teachers were looking at him as though he was a boy caught with him hand in the cookie jar. A few, he noticed, were looking at him with understanding smiles. Professor Slughorn was one of them, he was slightly shocked to notice. The man nodded his head a Neville, as though he knew just what was going through the new teacher's head. Neville was slightly surprised at this; the potions master had never liked him much. But, still, Neville was feeling more and more alone and he would take any support he could get.

Headmistress McGonagall looked very much like she wanted to say something to her old student, but thought better of it. She turned around to finish making the obligatory announcements about the Forbidden Forest both Zonkos and Weasely Wizarding Wheezes products. Neville felt a slight pang as the announcement call to mind Fred Weasely. He sighed, but returned his focus to the Headmistress, who was now welcoming the terrified eleven year olds into the Great Hall.

Neville recalled his own sorting, thirteen years ago. The hat had sat on his head for quite some time before finally telling him that there was an undeniable good in him, a good that would bring out his courage when the time was right, and to stop fighting with him, he was just a hat. Then, Neville thought of the second time he'd worn the sorting hat. Before the sword had hit him on the head, the burning but uninjured hat said four words to him in a smug voice.

"I told you so."

Neville realized with a start that he had been letting his mind wander for a long time, and that it was time to leave. He stood up with the rest of the teachers, as the students left the hall.

"I trust you will exit you're seat slightly more conventionally than you choose to enter it, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville cringed, thinking his old head of house was angry at him already. But when he turned to look at her, there was a twinkle in her eye and a slight smile on her lips. He smiled back at her, starting to feel back at home.

He did as he was told and walked the long way around the entire table between Professor Slughorn and someone he recognized vaguely as an auror he'd fought beside, at some point. Neville assumed this was the new Defense teacher.

The teachers all made their way out of the Great Hall through the tall doors. Neville walked out of the now empty Great Hall….straight into a huge throng of students waiting for the prefects to lead the young students to their common rooms.

Most of the experienced teachers quickly extracted themselves from the crowd of students. Neville had no such luck and within a matter of minutes found himself caught in the crowd of students. This was not going to lead to good things, he was sure.

And sure enough, people started jostling each other and turning to him, then away quickly to mutter in little groups. _Lovely, _thought Neville. He tired ignore the sounds from around him, but soon snippets of the conversation made their way into his ears.

"….Room of Requirements for months…."

"Parents…"

"…knew all the big names…"

"….Harry Potter's son godfather!"

"Of course he was in Gryffindor, don't know why McGonagall had…"

"I was here with him!"

"NO WAY!"

"He interrupted my muggle studies class once, with fireworks, and I…."

"Didn't he carry you out of a dungeon?"

Neville promptly tripped over his feet and knocked over two second years. He stopped to help them up, and to sincerely hope that he wasn't going to have them in class for a long time. Then he looked out at the crowd, most of whom were about a head shorter then him, looking for the source of the voice.

"…both of us, I think I would have died…." This explanation was followed by a gasp that sounded like the first voice that had asked about dungeons. Neville looked toward the sound. He saw a small knot of Hufflepuffs, who looked to be sixteen and seventeen. He squinted at them, and briefly felt a flash of something like recognition and felt as though he should go over to them. Why he felt this, he didn't know. He stood still for a moment as he battled with himself. _Rule number one is…was trust you instincts. But the war is over. Yes, _he thought with finality. The war is over, no need to trust a strange, random, inexplicable urge.

He finally some how made his way to his own apartment, down the hall from the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Neville was quite thankful of this arrangement, but couldn't help but think back to what Headmistress McGonagall had said to him when she first told him of his new quarters.

"_They're just down the hall here, just a little further than the Common Room. You'll be going the same way you did ever day when you were in school. The stair case here doesn't move anymore, something about being hit by a stray body binding curse….. Oh no dear, that stair still works like quick sand, here let me…" _

The headmistress had to pull Neville out of the stair. Neville knew that she was in charge of where in the castle the teachers lived, and he had a nagging suspicion that his head of house hadn't forgotten how bad he was at remembering roots through the castle, or homeworks, or password, and that this forgetful tendency was the reason he was living so close to where he did during school.

But honestly, Neville realized, he didn't care. He just wanted to get in to his apartment and sleep off his embarrassment at basically everything that had happened from the moment he entered the Great Hall to the moment he entered his new apartment.

He honestly didn't care too much about his surroundings at that point, but old survival habits die hard. He walked into every room, clicked on the lights, and muttered _homo revelo, _and noted all the exits. He nodded as he walked into his bedroom. Everything in the apartment was in order.

His trunk had been delivered before him, and he was grateful as he pulled out loose drawstring PJ pants. He changed quickly and fell into his warm bed. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, happy to be back.

It didn't last. He woke up still tired with his head full of images, an odd mix of dreams and memories and his ears ringing with screaming.

"_THEY TOOK LUNA, NEVILLE! I CAN'T FIND HER" Ginny looked truly frantic as she realized that yet another friend had been taken from her….._

"_Are you familiar with the Crusitus Curse, Mr. Longbottom?" A sneer, eyes full of hate, and then pain, nothing but pain…._

"_NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" and again, he was watching as Bellatrix again tortured a mother, and again there was nothing Neville could do….._

_The helplessness he felt when he heard Seamus's small, muffled cries from across the dorm, knowing the only roommate he had left was missing his best friend, who they hadn't seen hide or hair of in months…._

_The joy he felt holding Luna in his arms again, thrilled that she was alive, during the hourlong lull, only to have his heart sink when he heard "HARRY POTTER IS DEAD"…._

_Running through the hallway toward the Room of Requirements, carrying an 11 year old girl who was far too light and trying her hardest to cry without sound, until he could hand the girl to Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott on the top of the stairs, then turning around to head back to the dungon, where the sound of a small girl's screaming was replaced with the screaming of a boy who had only just become a man…_

"_I'm sorry!" The tiny girl was wailing, her voice filled with pain from her own injuries and the pain of knowing that without her, the seventeen year old Ravenclaw next to her would be awake, and wouldn't be bleeding….._

"_Shhhh, shhh, its not your fault. No don't cry, its going to be just fine…." Susan's voice was directed at the Hufflepuff first year, but some how it seemed that she was trying to convince them all…._

"_Hey it's ok, its ok, shhh, it's ok." Neville chanted again and again to the little Hufflepuff, knowing it wasn't enough, "I'll take care of you, it's ok, just hold on, its ok, its ok, everything will be all right," he started stroking her hair, like he did sometimes when his mother was upset, "its ok, its ok, shhh, its ok…."_

Neville groaned as he woke up. He hadn't dreamed of that night in more then two years, and he had a nagging suspicion that there was a reason that he was thinking of it again, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

The light of the sun was washing across his face, and he looked down at the watch Gran had given him on his seventeenth birthday, inherited from his father.

8:13am.

Neville realized that he had two minutes to be in the green house. He shouted his most colorful swear, grabbed his robes, tripped over his chair pulling them over his head, picked up his wand, and after hitting the door frame on his first try, ran out the door toward the front door.

...

REVIEW PLEASE LOVES!


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